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SOCIALIST  SONGS 
DIALOGUES  AND 
RECITATIONS 


COMPILED  BY 

JOSEPHINE  R.  COLE 

San  Jose,  California 


CHICAGO 

CHARLES  H.  KERR  &  COMPANY 

1906 


Copyright,  1905 

By  Charles  H.  Kerr  &  Company 


For  be  sure  the  new  things  grow 
As  the  old  things  fade ; 

As  we  train  the  children  so  .  ^ 

Is  the  future  made 
That  shall  reign  when  we  are  low. 

All  the  work  we  would  have  wrought 
Must  by  them  be  done; 

We  shall  pass,  but  not  our  thought 
While  in  every  one 
Lives  the  lesson  that  we  taught. 

Mary  F.  Robinson. 


PREFACE. 


Please  allow  me  to  express  here  my  appreciation  of 
the  generous  readiness  with  which  I  have  been  met  in 
my  requests  for  contributions  to  this  collection,  or  for 
permission  to  use  poems  previously  published  elsewhere. 
To  the  women  workers  in  the  Socialist  movement  this 
little  book  is  affectionately  dedicated. 

Josephine  R.  Cole, 

Compiler. 


I 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


The  Red  Ribbon — J.  R.  Cole . 

Socialism’s  Army — E.  E.  Hunt . 

Socialism’s  Banner — E.  E.  Hunt . 

Co-operation — J.  R.  Cole . . . 

Co-operation — Samuel  V.  Cole . . . 

The  Snow  House — J.  R.  Cole . 

Ten  Commandments — The  Labor  Leader . 

Exercise  for  Ten  Children — -E.  E.  Hunt . 

Nature’s  Gifts — E.  E.  Hunt . 

The  Sunbeam  and  the  Maiden— Cousin  Carl . 

Out  of  Place — -Allan  Brant . 

Exercise  for  Twelve  Children . 

Work,  Work,  Work — E.  E.  Hunt . 

Love’s  Patriot — Ernest  Crosby . 

Rat-Ta-Tat — Samuel  Avunculus  Mann . . . .  ^ . 

“1  Do  Not  ’Obey,  I  Think”— Ernest  Crosby’. . 

After  Dinner — J.  R.  Cole . . . . . . . 

Cheer,  Boys,  Cheer — E.  E.  Hunt . 

A  Shoe  Factory  Dialogue — Hebe  Hallen  Clark . 

Ring  the  Bells — J.  R.  Cole . 

A  Cry  from  the  Ghetto — ^The  Socialist  Spirit . 

A  Social  Problem — Ethel  Whitehead . 

The  Wolf  at  the  Door — Charlotte  Perkins  Gilman., 

A  Marching  Song — J.  R.  Cole . 

A  Hint  to  the  Wise — J.  R.  Cole . 

The  Coward — Hattie  Tyng  Griswold . 

One  of  the  People — J.  R.  Cole . 

At  the  Woman’s  Union  Meeting — J.  R.  Cole . 

A  Queer  Little  Cobbler — Kate  Cameron . 

An  Obstacle — Charlotte  Perkins  Gilman . 

The  Overflow — Allan  Brant . 

The  Father  of  Lies — J.  R.  Cole . 

The  Day  of  the  Lord  is  at  Hand — Charles  Kingsley 

What  Is  Socialism? — Emma  E.  Hunt . 

Sympathy . 

In  the  Days  That  Are  to  Be — J.  R.  Cole . 

0  Say,  What  Is  Truth? — John  Jaques . 

The  World’s  Great  Cup  of  Sorrow-^.  R.  C . 

As  We  Go  Marching  On — Social  l3emocrat . 

Stop  Quarreling,  Children — J.  R.  C . 


Page 
. .  7 
.  .  9 
.  .  10 
..  II 
.  .  14 
.  .  15 
.  .  16 
. .  17 
.  .  20 
.  .  21 
.  .  22 
’.  .  23 
.  .  24 
.  .  25 
.  .  26 
..  27 
..  28 
..  30 
.  .  31 
..  33 
.  .  34 
.  .  35 
..  39 
..  40 
..  41 
..  42 
..  43 
..  44 
..  46 
..  47 
..  48 
..  49 
..  51 
..  52 
..  52 
.  .  53 
..  54 
..  54 
i  .  55 
..  55 


Socialist  Songs,  Dialogues  and 
Recitations. 


THE  RED  RIBBON. 

DIALOGUE. 

Boy  and  Girl.  Girl  wears  a  red  ribbon.  Boy  does  not. 

Boy — Good  morning,  Nellie.  That  is  a  pretty  red  rib¬ 
bon  yon  have  on. 

Girl — That  is  my  Socialist  ribbon. 

Boy — Why,  Nellie,  are  you  a  Socialist? 

Girl — Of  course,  I  am. 

Boy — What  is  a  Socialist? 

Girl — Why,  a  Socialist  is  a — is  a — Socialist  of  course. 
My  papa  is  a  Socialist  and  my  mamma  is  a  Socialist  and 
I  am  a  Socialist.  ^ 

Boy — What  does  the  red  ribbon  mean? 

Girl — The  red  ribbon  means  that  all  the  men  in  the 
world  have  the  same  kind  of  blood,  the  same  color,  red, 
the  color  of  this  ribbon. 

Boy — Why,  that  seems  funny.  Do  you  mean  that  the 
negro,  with  black  skin  and  woolly  hair,  has  blood  the 
same  color  as  mine? 

Girl — Yes,  just  the  same  color  as  yours  and  mine,  red. 


7 


8  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 


Boy — Why  does  not  it  make  his  skin  the  same  color, 
then  ? 

I 

Girl — I  do  not  know  about  that,  but  I  know  it  is  true, 
for  once  I  saw  a  negro  boy  cut  his  finger  and  when  the 
blood  dropped  out  it  was  bright  red,  just  like  this.  (Points 
to  the  ribbon.) 

Boy — Then,  do  you  suppose  the  Indians  and  the  China¬ 
men  and  the  Esquimau  and  all  the  other  queer  people 
have  red  blood,  too? 

Girl — Yes,  everybody  in  the  world,  every  man  and 
woman,  and  that  is  what  this  stands  for,  to  show  that  all 
men  and  women  in  the  world  are  one  race — the  human 
race  we  call  it. 

Boy — Who  told  you  all  that,  Nellie. 

Girl — My  papa.  Doesn’t  your  papa  tell  you  so? 

Boy — I  guess  he  forget  to  tell  me.  (Comes  a  little 
nearer  the  girl.)  I  think  that  ribbon  is  a  pretty  color. 

Girl — If  you  would  like  a  piece,  I  have  one  in  my  pocket 
you  can  have.  (Pins  it  on  his  jacket.)  Now  you  are  a 
Socialist,  too.  When  we  grow  up  we  will  both  vote  for 
Socialism. 

Boy — Why !  You  can’t  vote,  you’re  a  girl.  Only  the 
men  vote. 

Well,  when  I  am  grown  up  the  women  will  vote 

RBC 

How  do  you  know  that?  KcU 

Because  my  mamma  says  so. 

(They  go  out  together.) 

J.  R.  Cole. 


Girl— 

too. 

Boy — 

Girl— 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 


SOCIALISM’S  ARMY. 

SONG. 

Tunc — “The  Little  Octoroon.” 

Socialism’s  army’s  marching  through  the  land. 

I  lark,  and  yon  can  hear  its  steady  tread ! 

And  its  mighty  numbers,  countless  as  the  sand. 

Fill  the  guilty  enemy  with  dread. 

V 

Chorus — ■ 

Glory,  glory,  won’t  the  children  sing! 

Glory,  glory,  won’t  the  old  woods  ring ! 

When  Socialism’s  army  marches  to  the  sea. 
Making  both  the  rich  and  poor  man  free. 

See  the  loyal  standard  waving  to  the  air. 

Peace  on  earth,  good  will  and  love  to  man ; 

Lifting  up  the  millions  from  their  deep  despair ; 

God  is  leading  on  the  caravan. 

Chorus — ' 

Though  we’re  little  children,  marching  hand  in  hand, 
Socialism’s  gospel  we  can  spread ; 

Driving  childhood  labor  from  the  people’s  land. 
Leaving  joy  where  once  was  only  dread. 


Chorus — ■ 


E.  E.  Hunt. 


10  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 

SOCIALISM’S  BANNER. 

SONG. 

The  boys  and  girls  today  are  tomorrow’s  men  and  women, 
The  army  that  is  going  to  conquer  wrong ; 

With  right  for  our  watchword  we  will  hold  aloft  our 
standard, 

And  this  is  going  to  be  our  battle  song : 

* 

Chorus — 

Under  Socialism’s  banner  we  are  marching  on  to  freedom, 
It’s  beams  already  break  the  morning  sky, 

Under  Socialism’s  banner  we  are  putting  down  oppres¬ 
sion  ; 

For  justice  is  our  cry, 

Under  Socialism’s  banner  every  battle  will  be  bloodless, 
And  the  bullets  will  be  ballots  bye  and  bye. 

Each  mountain,  bill  and  vale,  each  ocean,  rill  and  river 
Are  the  granaries  of  Nature’s  ample  store. 

But  with  the  key  of  gold.  Greed  has  locked  and  barred 
the  portals ; 

Labor  now  is  going  to  open  every  door. 

Chorus — • 

The  world  has  room  enough  for  everybody  in  it. 

When  we’ve  pushed  away  the  dollar  and  the  dime. 

For  Mammon’s  godless  greed,  and  the  grasp  of  competion 
Fills  the  world  with  sorrow,  poverty  and  crime. 

Chorus — 

Then  come  and  join  our  ranks,  and  march  with  us  to 
battle. 

And  help  us  as  we  fight  our  common  foe. 

And  give  to  all  the  world  work,  pleasure,  peace  and 
plenty. 

Then  the  millionaire  and  tramp  will  have  to  go. 

Emma  E.  LIunt. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS,  11 


CO-OPERATION. 

DIALOGUE. 

Father — Well,  Charlie,  what  have  yon  been  doing'  to¬ 
day  while  papa  has  been  away  at  work? 

Charlie— rVe  been  having  a  fine  time.  I  went  ’way 
down  to  the  wharf  where  the  big  vessels  come  in,  and  we 
saw  a  ship  that  was  going  to  China. 

Father — Yon  don’t  say!  Tell  me  all  abont  it. 

Charlie — I  can’t  tell  yon  all  abont  it,  because  there  is 
so  much  to  tell ;  bnt  the  nicest  thing  was  some  sailors 
singing.  What  did  yon  call  that  song  they  sang,  mamma  ? 

Mother — A  chantey  (prononnced  shanti). 

Charlie — Oh,  yes,  a  chantey.  There  was  a  long  line 
of  sailors  pnlling  on  a  big  rope,  and  they  were  singing- 
something,  bnt  I  can’t  tell  yon  what  they  said,  because 
it  sonnded  like  some  foreign  langnage.  Then  in  be¬ 
tween  the  singing  they  all  said  “Ye-ho-o,  Ye-ho-o,”  just 
like  that.  Did  yon  ever  see  sailors  pull  on  a  rope  that 
way,  papa? 

Father — Yes,  Charlie,  lots  of  times ;  but  it  does  look 
pretty.  What  do  you  think  they  said  Ye-ho-o  for,  when 
they  were  pulling? 

Charlie — I  don’t  know.  What  did  they  say  it  for? 

Father — They  did  that  so  that  they  would  all  pull  to¬ 
gether.  Didn’t  yon  notice  that  when  they  said  ‘Y-o-o” 
tliey  all  pnlled? 

Charlie — Yes.  Whenever  they  said  “Ye-o-o”  they  all 
pidlcd. 

h'ather — Well,  that  is  the  way  they  keep  time,  and 
know  when  to  ])nll  on  the  rope. 

Charlie — Why  do  they  want  to  pnlball  together,  papa? 


12  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 

Father — Because  they  can  pull  harder  when  they  all 
pull  tog'ether.  Do  you  think  you  could  pull  a  broomstick 
out  of  my  hand  if  I  held  it  tight? 

Charlie- — I  don’t  believe  I  could. 

Father — But  suppose  you  should  get  Tommy  and 
Maggie  and  Jim,  and  all  get  hold  of  the  broomstick,  and 
all  pull  together,  I  calculate  that  you  would  get  it  away 
from  me,  wouldn’t  you? 

Charlie — Yes,  sir;  I’m  sure  we  could.  You  couldn’t 
hold  out  against  the  whole  of  us,  not  even  a  minute. 

Father — But  suppose  first  you  pulled,  and  then  Maggie 
pulled,  and  then  Jim  pulled,  would  you  get  the  broom- 
stick  or  would  I  keep  it? 

Charlie — You  would  keep  it. 

Father — That’s  just  the  secret  of  the  sailors’  singing. 
They  wanted  to  pull  all  together,  so  that  they  would  be 
stronger. 

Charlie — Oh,  now  I  understand!  They  said  “Ye-o-o” 
so  that  they  would  all  pull  at  exactly  the  same  time. 

Father — Yes,  that  is  it.  And  now  I  want  to  teach  you 
a  new  word.  See  if  you  can  say  it  after  me :  Co-op-er-a- 
tion. 

Charlie — Co-op-er-a-tion. 

Father — Now  I  will  tell  you  the  meaning  of  the  word. 
It  means  pulling  together.  Can  you  remember  that?  Co¬ 
operation  means  pulling  together. 

Charlie — It  is  a  long  word,  papa,  and  maybe  I’ll  forget 
the  word,  but  I'm  sure  I’ll  remember  the  meaning. 

Father — Now,  sonnie.  I’ll  sing  you  part  of  an  old 
chantey  we  used  to  sing  when  I  was  a  boy : 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS.  13 


“I  wish  I  was  in  Baltimore, 

Oh,  yes,  oh ! 

A-working  as  a  stevedore 

A  hundred  years  ago. 

A  hundred  years  in  a  very  long  time. 

Oh —  yes,  oh  !  , 

A  hundred  years  is  a  very  long  time, 

A  hundred  years  ago. 

I  wish  I  was  in  Boston  town, 

Oh,  yes,  oh ! 

To  see  the  girls  *in  their  new  silk  gowns, 

A  hundred  years  ago. 

A  hundred  years  is  a  very  long  time. 

Oh,  yes,  oh  ! 

A  hundred  years  is  a  very  long  time, 

A  hundred  years  ago.” 

Charlie — Sing  some  more,  papa. 

Father — Fve  forgotten  the  rest. 

Charlie — Oh,  papa,  you  should  have  seen  that  big  ship 
swing  around  when  the  men  pulled.  It  came  sliding  over 
the  water  just  as  pretty.  It  was  such  a  big,  big  ship.  You 
wouldn’t  think  the  men  could  move  it. 

Father — Yes,  Charlie,  that’s  the  beauty  of  pulling  to¬ 
gether.  And  when  we  all  pull  together,  toward  Socialism, 
we’ll  swing  this  big  Ship  of  State  right  where  we  want 
her. 


J.  R.  Cole. 


14  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 


CO-OPERATION. 

“Come,”  said  the  little  Ether-Atoms, 

“Let  us  cling  together  and  march  together. 

Millions  and  millions  and  millions  are  we; 

Let  us  form  and  march  like  the  waves  of  the  sea. 

With  shoulder  to  shoulder,  hand  linked  in  hand. 

Line  behind  line  of  us.  Here  we  stand! 

Steady,  there!  Wait  for  the  word  of  command. 
Steady,  my  comrades!  Is  everything  right? 

Now,  all  as  one  of  us,  into  the  night! !” 

So  they  clung  together  and  marched  together, 

And  the  world  was  filled  with  fight. 

“Come,”  said  the  little  Vibrations-in-Air, 

“Let  us  cling  together  and  work  together. 

Starting  not  off  on  our  separate  tracks. 

But  all  within  touch,  that  whatever  each  lacks 
The  rest  may  supply,  and  that  each,  great  or  small. 
May  something  contribute — to  soar,  run  or  crawl — 
Toward  the  one  common  end ;  there  is  work  for  us  all ; 

And  mingling  our  efforts,  the  weak  with  the  strong. 
Break  we  a  path  through  the  silence  along!” 

So  they  clung  together  and  helped  one  another, 

And  the  world  was  filled  with  song. 

“And  now,”  said  the  children  of  men  on  earth 
“Let  us  cling  together,  and  work  together. 

And  help  one  another,  and  turn  our  words 
Into  golden  action,  and  sheathe  our  swords ! 

Let  us  tunnel  the  mountain,  span  the  plain, 

Stretch  hands  to  each  other  across  the  main. 

And  each  man’s  wealth  be  for  all  men’s  gain ; 

Then  unto  his  neighbor  let  every  one 

Say,  ‘Be  of  good  courage,’  and  let  the  word  run.” 

So  they  clung  together,  and,  lo,  as  in  heaven. 

His  will  upon  earth  was  done. 

Samuel  V.  Cole  in  Youth’s  Companion. 

(Printed  by  permission  of  Perry  Mason  &  Company 
and  of  Ginn  &  Company.) 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS.  15 

THE  SNOW  HOUSE. 

DIALOGUE. 

Three  Boys.  Enter  two  Boys. 

Eirst  Boy — See  here!  You  just  leave  the  snow  alone 
over  this  side  of  the  yard.  I  am  building  a  snow  house. 
Don’t  you  see  it?  And  I  want  all  this  snow,  so  you  leave 
it  alone. 

Second  Boy — ^Who  says  I  must  leave  it  alone  I  am 
going  to  build  a  house,  too,  and  I  have  as  good  a  right  to 
the  snow  as  you  have. 

Eirst  Boy — If  you  touch  this  snow  I’ll  fight  you. 

Second  Boy — Come  on,  then!  I’m  not  afraid  of  you. 
I’ll  show  you  that  I  have  as  good  a  right  here  as  you  have. 
(Both  prepare  to  fight.  Enter  third  boy.) 

Third  Boy — I  say!  What’s  the  matter?  (Comes  be¬ 
tween  the  other  two  boys.)  What  are  you  fighting  about? 

Eirst  Boy — I  started  to  build  a  snow  house  and  he’s 
taking  away  my  snow. 

Second  Boy — It  isn’t  your  snow.  You  don’t  own  this 
school  yard. 

First  Boy— I  had  this  corner  first.  You  keep  your  own 
side  of  the  yard. 

Third  Boy— Oh,  I  say,  fellows !  Don’t  make  fools  of 
yourselves.  Let’s  look  into  this.  I  see  how  it  is.  You 
have  been  practicing  competition  in  getting  snow  and 
that’s  how  you’ve  come  to  fighting.  Don’t  you  remember 
what  teacher  told  us  the  other  day,  that  competition  leads 

to  fighting? 

I’ll  tell  you  what  let’s  do.  Lets  try  co-operation. 
(Turns  to  first  boy.)  You  couldn’t  build  a  very  big  house 
all  by  yourself.  (Turns  to  second  boy.)  And  neither 

could  you.  1  •  u- 

Now  let’s  all  pitch  in  together  and  build  a  rousing  big 


16  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 

snow  house,  and  tonight  we’ll  pour  some  water  over  it 
so  that  it  will  freeze  good  and  solid,  and  then  tomorrow 
we’ll  all  go  inside  and  play  we  are  Indians.  What  do  you 
say?  That  will  be  better  than  fighting. 


First  Boy — All  right!  Come  on.  Let’s  get  the  other 
fellows. 

Second  Boy — Hooray  for  the  co-operative  wigwam. 
(All  three  go  ofi;  together.) 


(The  boys  should  wear  caps,  mittens  and  mufflers,  and 
carry  shovels.) 


J.  R.  Cole. 


TEN  COMMANDMENTS. 

In  the  municipal  schools  of  an  Italian  town,  of  which 
the  Council  is  in  the  hands  of  the  Socialists,  a  leaflet  was 
distributed  on  May  i,  containing  the  following  ten  com¬ 
mandments  : 

Love  your  school  fellows,  who  will  be  your  fellow  work¬ 
men  in  life. 

Love  learning,  which  is  the  food  of  the  mind ;  be  as 
grateful  to  your  teacher  as  to  your  parents. 

Make  every  day  holy  by  good  and  useful  deeds  and 
kindly  actions. 

Honor  good  men,  be  courteous  to  all  men,  bow  down 
to  none. 

Do  not  hate  or  speak  evil  of  any  one ;  do  not  be  revenge¬ 
ful,  but  stand  up  for  your  rights  and  resist  oppression. 

Do  not  be  cowardly.  Be  a  friend  to  the  weak  and  love 
justice. 

Remember  that  all  the  good  things  of  the  earth  are 
produced  by  labor.  Whoever  enjoys  them  without  work¬ 
ing  for  them  is  stealing  the  bread  of  the  workers. 

Observe  and  think  in  order  to  discover  the  truth.  Do 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS.  17 


not  believe  what  is  contrary  to  reason,  and  never  deceive 
yourself  for  others. 

Do  not  think  that  he  who  loves  his  own  country  must 
hate  and  despise  other  nations,  or  wish  for  war,  which  is 
a  remnant  of  barbarism. 

Look  forward  to  the  day  when  all  men  will  be  free 
citizens  of  one  fatherland,  and  live  together  as  brothers  in 
peace  and  righteousness. 

The  Labor  Leader. 


EXERCISE  EOR  TEN  CHILDREN. 

Question — First  child  : 

“How  do  we  interpret  God?” 

Answer — Second  child  : 

“Creator  of  the  universe. 

The  Father  of  us  all. 

Who  loves  each  little  boy  and  girl 
And  knows  when  sparrows  fall.” 

Question — First  child  ; 

“What  is  Nature?” 

Answer — Third  child  : 

“God’s  handmaid  seen  in  starry  space 
And  in  the  forest  shade, 

And  where  majestic  mountains  stoop 
To  kiss  each  sylvan  glade.” 

Question — First  child : 

“What  does  Nature  do?” 

Answer — Fourth  child  : 

“She  makes  the  meadow,  hill  and  vale. 

Each  rivulet  and  rill 

Combine  with  sunshine,  shower  and  dew 
Her  granaries  to  fill.” 


18  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 


Question — First  child: 

“Why  does  she  fill  her  granaries?” 

Answer — Fifth  child: 

“That  every  creature  ma}^  be  fed, 

From  great  to  very  small. 

For  this  she  only  asks  of  us 
A  little  help  from  all.” 

Question — First  child  : 

“Ffow  can  we  help  Nature?” 

Answer — Sixth  child : 

“We  plow  and  cultivate  the  soil. 

We  sow  the  seed  and  grain; 

Then  Nature  kindly  does  the  rest 
With  warmth  and  wind  and  rain.” 

Question — First  child: 

“Flow  does  Nature  provide  for  the  insect?” 

Answer — Seventh  child : 

“Within  the  petals  of  a  flower 
Her  forces  all  combine, 

And  there  distil  a  drop  of  dew, 

The  insect’s  food  and  wine.” 

“There  on  the  meadow  daisy’s  breast 
Each  bird  and  bee  may  sup. 

For  there  is  where  she  spreads  their  feast. 

And  fills  each  golden  cup.” 

Question — First  child  : 

“What  lesson  should  this  teach  ?” 

Answer — Eighth  child : 

“As  Nature  kindly  cares  for  all. 

And  gives  her  blessings  free. 

So  should  unselfish  love  pervade 
The  human  family.” 

Question — First  child : 

“What  lesson  do  we  learn  from  the  ant  and  bee?’’ 

/ 

Answer — Ninth  child: 

“Each  toiling  ant  and  busy  bee. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS.  19 


With  instinct  wise  and  rare, 

This  lesson  teaches  boys  and  girls — 

That  each  should  do  his  share.” 

Question — First  child  : 

“Apply  the  competitive  system  to  a  hive  of  bees.” 

Answer — Tenth  child  : 

“One  bee  would  own  the  hive  and  comb 
And,  too,  the  field  of  flowers. 

Then  hire  the  other  bees  to  cull 
Through  all  the  weary  hours.” 

Question — First  child : 

“Apply  the  bees’  co-operative  system  to  the  human  hive.” 

Answer — All  nine  children ; 

“Within  the  human  hive  we’d  see 
Love  permeate  the  whole. 

No  more  would  selfish  greed  conspire 
To  levy  tax  and  toll.” 


Emma  E.  Hunt. 


20  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 

NATURE’S  GIFTS. 

From  Nature’s  lab’ratory  vast,  from  sea  and  from  the 
land. 

In  great  abundance  blessings  come,  they  teem  on  ev’ry 
hand ; 

The  wind,  the  sunlight  and  the  shower  are  agents,  one 
and  all. 

Of  Idim  who  feeds  Flis  children,  and  who  notes  the 
sparrow’s  fall. 

They  bring  to  earth  her  fragrant  flowers,  her  luscious 
fruit  and  grain ; 

And  not  one  word  does  Nature  say  of  profit,  loss  and 
gain ; 

But  free  as  sunlight’s  glinting  rays  her  table  forth  is 
spread. 

For  well  the  wise  Creator  knows  His  creatures  must 
be  fed. 

The  only  toll  that  Nature  wants,  the  only  praise  she  asks, 

Is  that  we  put  our  hand  in  hers,  and  help  her  with  her 
tasks. 

When  first  we  put  a  money  price  on  Nature’s  blessings 
fair. 

We  filled  the  earth  with  want  and  woe,  with  crime  and 
its  despair. 

Then  let  us  drive  from  out  the  land,  this  grasping,  greedy 
foe. 

The  cause  of  all  our  slavery,  our  poverty  and  woe. 

With  peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  men,  we’ll  sing  the 
new  born  song. 

Attuned  to  Nature,  every  voice  will  Freedom’s  notes 
prolong. 

Emma  E.  Hunt. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS;  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS.  21 


THE  SUNBEAM  AND  THE  MAIDEN. 

Once  upon  a  time  a  sunbeam, 

Passing  o’er  a  busy  town, 

Chanced  to  light  upon  a  maiden. 

On  whose  face  it  saw  a  frown. 

“Now,  I  wonder,”  said  the  sunbeam, 

“Why  a  frown  should  sear  that  face; 

I  must  stop  a  little  longer 
And -inquire  into  this  case.” 

So  the  little  sunbeam  lingered. 

Sending  forth  its  brightest  rays. 

Lighting  up  the  mighty  mansions. 

And  the  dismal  alley  ways. 

Smiling  faces  in  the  mansions 

Show  us  where  its  rays  have  been ; 

But  along  the  dismal  alleys 
Not  a  single  smile  is  seen. 

Slavish  toil  and  slow  starvation 
Leave  their  marks  on  every  face. 

And  a  smile  upon  these  features 
Seems  absurdly  out  of  place. 

“Can  it  be,”  the  sunbeam  wondered. 

Smiling  from  the  skies  above, 

“Even  I,  with  all  my  gladness. 

Cannot  rouse  a  spark  of  love?” 

“Love !  We  have  it,”  said  the  maiden, 
“Hidden  in  each  careworn  breast, 

Tho’  the  laugh  of  love  is  absent 
From  the  lips  of  the  oppressed. 

Hear  my  answer,  smiling  sunbeam. 

When  you  ask  why  such  things  be. 

There  are  slaves  in  Merrie  England, 

In  the  country  of  the  free.” 

Then  the  sunbeam,  saddened,  left  her. 

Joined  the  others  in  the  sky. 

Saying,  “Why  can’t  men  be  brothers  ?” 

And  the  echoes  answered,  “Why?” 

Cousin  Carl. 


22  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  ATID  RECITATIONS. 


OUT  OF  PLACE. 

Thy  little  face  is  sad  to  see, 

A  sorry  story  seems  to  be 
Writ  there  by  cruel  hand. 

Ah,  little  urchin  with  big  eyes, 

Is  there  no  place  beneath  the  skies 
For  thee,  no  happy  land? 

He  seemed  to  be  a  timid  thing, 

With  hardly  breath  enough  to  sing 
Or  joy  enough  to  play. 

Fie  raised  his  eyes  and  looked  around. 
His  gaze  then  falling  to  the  ground, 

He  slowly  walked  away. 

I  saw  him  look  at  other  boys ; 

He  really  seemed  to  fear  the  noise 
That  at  their  play  they  made. 
Although  he  longed  that  he  might  be 
As  glad  and  brave,  as  rich  and  free ; 

I  thought  it  was  too  l)ad. 

Why  should  so  innocent  a  thing 
E’er  stand  in  awe  of  boy- — or  king, 

Or  lack  the  hope  of  youth  ? 

Why  should  the  stamp  of  cruelty 
Thus  mar  the  face  of  such  as  he — 

Of  any  one,  forsooth  ? 

Ah,  saddest  sight  there  is  to  see. 

When  such  a  little  thing  as  he 
Is  stamped  with  sorrow’s  care. 

For  woe  is  sadly  out  of  place 
When  found  on  childhood’s  tender  face ; 
No  shadow  should  be  there. 


Allan  Brant. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS.  23 


EXERCISE  EOR  TWELVE  CHILDREN. 

First  Child — Labor  creates  all  capital,  but  has  none. 

Second  Child — Labor  builds  palaces,  but  lives  in  huts. 

Third  Child — Labor  weaves  the  most  beautiful  gar¬ 
ments  of  silk,  wool  and  linen,  but  wears  shoddy,  rags  and 
patches. 

Fourth  Child — Labor  prepares  the  most  delicious,  nu¬ 
tritious  foods,  but  lives  upon  unwholesome  adulterations. 

Fifth  Child — Labor  builds  street  cars,  carriages  and 
automobiles,  but  walks. 

Sixth  Child — Labor  builds  streets  and  public  highways, 
but  is  not  allowed  free  assemblage  upon  them. 

Seventh  Child — Labor  builds  schools  and  universities, 
but  remains  in  ignorance. 

Eighth  Child — Labor  builds  labor-saving  machines,  but 
works  on  harder  than  ever. 

Ninth  Child — Labor  manufactures  rifles  and  gatling 
guns  with  which  to  be  shot  when  it  strikes  for  its  rights. 

Tenth  Child — Labor  has  the  ballot,  but  does  not  know 
how  to  use  it. 

Eleventh  Child — Labor  has  brains  and  ability  to  change 
all  this,  but  is  too  cowardly  to  stand  up  for  its  rights. 

Twelfth  Child — The  hard  ivork  of  the  laboring  class 
has  so  deadened  their  sensibilities  that  they  can’t  feel  it 
when  they  are  being  skinned. 

All  ask,  “What?” 

Child  repeats,  “The  hard  work,”  etc. 

All  reply,  “Yes,  that’s  so,  “the  hard  work  of,”  etc- 


24  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 


WORK,  WORK,  WORK. 

Work,  work,  work,  and  hasten  in  the  day 
When  tasks  will  all  be  pleasant  ones  and  work  will  be 
but  play. 

Put  the  shoulder  to  the  wheel  and  push  the  load  away. 
That  makes  the  workingman  a  slave  and  Mammon’s  easy 
prey. 

Then  strike,  strike,  strike,  nor  heed  the  worldly  jeer; 
Strike  while  the  iron’s  hot — have  courage,  never  fear ; 
The  world  is  all  your  own,  with  plenty  standing  near ; 
Then  strike  for  right  and  liberty,  and  all  that  you  hold 
dear^ 

Then  talk,  talk,  talk ;  let  everybody  talk ; 

For  Capital  is  on  your  track  and  would  your  purpose  balk  ; 
At  home  or  abroad  in  all  your  daily  walk. 

Stand  firm  by  your  convictions,  boys,  and  let  your  actions 
talk. 

Then  fight,  fight,  fight,  for  fighting’s  not  a  sin. 

When  ballots  are  the  cannon-balls,  and  love’s  the  javelin; 
Fight  Capital  and  War  and  all  their  kith  and  kin, 

’Twill  be  a  bitter  fight,  my  boys,  but  you  are  going  to  win. 

Emma  E.  Hunt. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS.  25 


LOVE’S  PATRIOT. 

I  saw  a  lad,  a  beautiful  lad, 

With  a  far-off  look  in  his  eye. 

Who  smiled  not  at  the  battle-flag 
When  the  cavalry  troop  marched  by. 

And  sorely  vexed,  I  asked  the  lad 
Where  might  his  country  be 
Who  cared  not  for  our  country’s  flag 
And  the  brave  from  over-sea  ? 

“Oh,  my  country  is  the  Land  of  Love,” 

Thus  did  the  lad  reply; 

“My  country  is  the  Land  of  Love 
And  a  patriot  there  am  1.” 

“And  who  is  your  king,  my  patriot  boy,  ♦ 

Whom  loyally  you  obey  ?” 

“My  king  is  Freedom,”  quoth  the  lad, 

“And  he  never  says  me  nay.” 

“Then  you  do  as  you  like  in  your  Land  of  Love, 
Where  every  man  is  free?” 

“Nay,  we  do  as  we  love,”  replied  the  lad, 

And  his  smile  fell  full  on  me. 

Ernest  Crosby. 


26  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 


RAT-TA-TAT ! 

Said  Sam,  '‘Will  you  go  to  the  war?” 

Said  I,  “Not  a  bit!” 

What  is  the  nonsense  all  for? 

Are  we  cocks  in  a  pit?” 

“For  the  maudlin  princes  to  gawp  at — 

These  lordlings  of  boodle  and  blood — 

To  gamble  upon,  and  yawp  at. 

As  though  we  were  mud?” 

Said  Sam,  “Will  you  join  the  militia? 

You  can  march  and  have  fun. 

Just  around  at  the  drill  room — 

And  carry  a  gun  ! 

“You  needn’t  go  off  to  Manila, 

But  march  out  on  sprees — 

You  can  sleep  at  your  home  on  a  pillow 
And  never  need  freeze  ?” 

“Go  to!”  said  I,  “foolish  parader! 

Will  you  kill  fellow  toilers  on  strike? 

If  our  country  needs  yeomen  to  aid  her 
’Tis  such  honest  workmen  they’re  like !” 

Said  Sam,  “You’ll  get  glory  and  pension!” 
Said  I,  “Very  fine ! 

But  the  bullet  wounds  gory  don’t  mention! 
I  decline !” 


Samuel  Avunculus  Mann 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS.  27 


I 


“I  DO  NOT  OBEY,  I  THINK.” 

“Captain,  what  do  you  think,”  I  asked, 

“Of  the  part  your  soldiers  play?” 

The  captain  answered,  “I  do  not  think — ■ 

I  do  not  think,  I  obey.” 

“Do  you  think  your  conscience  was  meant  to  die. 
And  your  brains  to  rot  away?” 

The  captain  answered,  “I  do  not  think — 

I  do  not  think,  I  obey.” 

“Do  you  think  you  should  shoot  a  patriot  down 
And  help  a  tyrant  slay?” 

The  captain  answered,  “I  do  not  think — • 

I  do  not  think,  I  obey.” 

“Then  if  this  is  your  soldier’s  code,”  I  cried, 
“You’re  a  mean,  unmanly  crew; 

And  with  all  your  feathers  and  gilt  and  braid, 

I  am  more  of  a  man  than  you. 

“For  whatever  my  lot  on  earth  may  be 
And  whether  I  swim  or  sink, 

I  can  say  with  pride,  “I  do  not  obey — • 

I  do  not  obey,  I  think.” 


Ernest  Crosby. 


28  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 


AFTER  DINNER. 

DIALOGUE. 

Mother — Well,  my  son,  have  you  had  enough? 

Tom — Yes,  ma’am.  I’m  almost  too  full  for  utterance. 

I  don’t  believe  Vanderbilt’s  Erench  cook  could  beat  that 
dinner.” 

Eather — Eunny  how  much  better  a  man  feels  after  a 
good  meal,  isn’t  it?  I’m  on  good  terms  with  everybody 
just  now.” 

Nancy — I  wouldn’t  care  about  Vanderbilt’s  dinners 
anyway.  I’d  rather  have  turkey  roasted  the  way  mother 
roasts  it,  and  cranberry  sauce  and  squash  pie,  than  all 
Vanderbilt’s  Erench  dishes.  This  dinner  is  good  enough 
for  anybody,  isn’t  it,  mother? 

Mother  (sighing) — Yes,  Nancy;  I  only  wish  everybody 
could  have  as  good  a  dinner  as  this  is. 

Nancy — Now,  mother,  why  did  you  say  that,  and  spoil 
my  pleasure?  You  know  we  don’t  want  people  to  be 
hungry. 

Mother — I  know  that,  Nancy,  but  somehow  I  couldn’t 
help  thinking  of  it,  and  speaking  of  it.  When  we  think 
of  all  the  poor  people  who  don’t  have  enough  to  eat,  it 
seems  an  awful  thing. 

Eather — Yes,  children,  when  you  consider  how  some 
people  live,  you  ought  to  feel  thankful  for  what  you  have. 
You  are  a  lot  better  off  than  some  folks. 

Tom — I  don’t  look  at  it  that  way  at  all.  It  don’t  do  me 
any  good  to  see  other  folks  suffer.  When  I  am  having 
a  good  time  it  spoils  my  pleasure,  and  when  I  am  having 
a  bad  time  it  only  makes  me  mad  to  look  around  and  see 
a  lot  of  other  fellows  as  bad  off  or  worse.  I  don’t  see 
why  I  should  be  happy  because  another  fellow  is  in 
trouble. 

Father — It  ought  to  make  you  appreciate  what  you  have 
when  you  see  others  without  it.  If  you  get  enough  to 
eat  and  drink,  it  is  something  to  be  thankful  for,  I  take  it. 

Nancy — Well,  I’m  sure,  as  far  as  I’m  concerned,  I  wish 


I 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS.  29 

everybody  could  have  enough  to  make  them  all  com- 
'  fortable.  I  would  like  to-have  everybody  happy,  and  then 
I  could  be  happy  too,  and  eat  my  dinner  and  not  think 
of^  the  poor  people  who  don’t  have  it ;  but  we  can’t  help 
things,  so  what’s  the  use  worrying  about  them.  The 
best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  take  what  we  have,  and  get 
all  we  can  and  enjoy  it,  and  not  think  about  those  who 
have  to  go  without.  But  it  does  make  me  cross  to  have 
people  tell  me  to  be  glad  because  I  have  more  than  other 
folks.  I  don’t  feel  that  way  at  all. 

Tom — I  heard  a  man  arguing  on  that  point  with  a 
Socialist  the  other  day.  The  Socialist  was  telling  how  we 
could  manage  things  so  that  everybody  could  have  enough 
to  eat  and  be  comfortable,  and  the  other  man  said  that 
people  wouldn’t  like  that.  He  said  that  it-  made  men 
happier  to  see  others  not  so  well  off  as  themselves.  I  felt 
like  breaking  into  the  conversation  and  saying  what  I 
thought,  but  I  didn’t. 

Nancy — Why,  Tom,  was  he  a  real  Socialist?  What 
did  he  say  ?  What  did  he  look  like  ? 

Tom — Oh,  he  looked  just  like  anybody  else,  of  course, 
two  eyes  and  two  ears,  and  so  forth.  Did  you  think  he 
was  a  monstrosity,  Nancy? 

Nancy — No,  but  I  thought  the  Socialists  were  very 
queer,  and  perhaps  he  looked  kind  of  crazy,  or  something. 
Where  did  you  see  him,  Tom?  I  wish  I  could  see  one. 

Tom — Well,  you  can  see  Socialists  almost  any  time  you 
want  to.  They  speak  on  the  common  every  Sunday  after¬ 
noon.  I’ve  heard  them  several  times. 

Nancy — What  is  Socialism,  father  ? 

Father — I  don’t  know  exactly.  Some  sort  of  a  scheme 
for  doing  away  with  the  poor,  I  believe,  and  making 
everybody  happy.  I  have  never  found  out  exactly  what 
their  plan  is. 

Nancy — Oh,  Tom,  will  they  let  women  go  to  their 
meetings  ? 

Tom — Why,  yes,  if  they  want  to.  Of  course,  they  were 


30  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 

mostly  men  in  the  crowd  when  I  was  there,  but  there  is 
nothing  to  hinder  a  woman  from  going. 

Nancy — Will  you  take  me,  Tom? 

Tom — I  don’t  care,  if  mother  says  so.  You’ll  have  to 
ask  her. 

Mother — Well,  if  any  one  is  trying  to  find  some  way 
to  do  away  with  all  the  suffering  and  misery  in  the 
world,  I  think  it  cannot  do  us  any  harm  to  listen  to  them. 
Take  Nancy  with  you,  Tom,  and  when  she  comes  back 
she  can  tell  me  all  about  it. 

J.  R.  Cole. 


CHEER,  BOYS,  CHEER. 

Cheer,  boys,  cheer !  away  with  idle  sorrow  ! 

The  new  day’s  dawn  is  breaking  on  our  sight. 

The  star  of  hope  points  out  the  bright  tomorrow ; 

Let  us  forget  the  long  and  gloomy  night. 

Let  us  forget  the  gnawing  pangs  of  hunger, 

The  long  hours  of  toil  that  brought  us  no  reward ; 
Let  us  forget  the  chains  now  rent  asunder, 

And  bask  in  the  sunshine  of  freedom  now  restored. 

Chorus — 

Cheer,  boys,  cheer  !  No  more  of  idle  sorrow  ! 

Cheer,  boys,  cheer,  united  now  we  stand. 

Cheer,  boys,  cheer !  All  hail  the  bright  tomorrow. 
Cheer,  boys,  cheer  for  Columbia’s  happy  land. 

Cheer,  boys,  cheer!  No  more  of  idle  shirking! 

Give  to  the  world  the  willing,  strong  right  hand. 
Where  duty  calls,  there  happiness  is  lurking; 

Cheer,  boys,  cheer  for  Columbia’s  happy  land. 

Now  we  have  found  in  man  a  loving  neighbor. 

Who  once  was  a  foe  that  we  must  meet  and  fight. 
Now  peace  and  plenty  smiles  upon  our  labor. 

Heaven  on  earth  is  dawning,  and  now  we  see  aright. 
Chorus — 


E.  E.  Hunt. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS.  31 

A  SHOE  FACTORY  DIALOGUE. 

By  Hebe  Hallen  Clark. 

(A  noon-hour  conversation  between  three  employes  of 

a  shoe  faetory.) 

Tom — I  don’t  know  how  you  fellows  feel,  but  I’m  about 
all  in. 

Dick — So^n  I.  Wish  we  didn’t  have  to  work  so  hard. 

Harry — Hush.  You  ought  to  be  glad  you’ve  got  a  job. 

Dick — I  am  glad,  but  wouldn’t  it  keep  if  we  left  some 
of  it  until  tomorrow  ? 

Harry — Oh,  yes,  it  would  keep  all  right,  but  then  you 
know  we  can’t  have  everything  we  want. 

Dick — Can’t  have  everything  we  want?  You  talk  like 
a  sausage!  We  never  get  nothin’  but  work,  and  that 
comes  in  bunches.  The  rest  of  the  time  we  go  around 
and  beg  for  that. 

Tom  (to  himself) — Guess  I’ll  read  some.  (Takes  paper 
out  of  pocket  and  begins  to  read.) 

Harry — Ah,  you  give  me  a  pain !  You  are  always 
wantin’  somethin’  you  can’t  have. 

Dick — Yes,  and  gettin’  somethin’  I  don’t  want. 

Tom — Be  calm  now,  boys,  be  calm. 

Harry — You’d  better  cut  that  out,  Dick!  Suppose  the 
boss  ’ud  come  around  suddenly  and  hear  that? 

Dick — Fire  me,  of  course. 

Harry — Sh — .  What  d’  I  tell  you?  Here  he  comes 
now. 

(Boss  walks  leisurely  across  the  stage.) 

Dick — But,  honest,  now,  don’t  it  seem  like  a  durn 
shame  that  a  few  can  strut  around  like  that  feller  and 
have  so  much  that  they  don’t  know  what  to  do  with  it, 
while  the  rest  of  us  have  to  work  like  convicts  and  then 
never  have  nuthin’  ? 

Harry — Say,  you’re  one  of  them  chronic  grumblers — 
aint  never  satisfied  with  nuthin’. 

Dick — You’ve  about  struck  it.  Aint  got  nuthin’  to  be 


32  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 

satisfied  with.  Besides,  it’s  pretty  tough  to  live  in  speak- 
in’  distance  of  starvation  all  the  time  and  never  have 
nuthin’  to  look  forward  to  but  hard  work,  cheap  food, 
ragged  clothes  and  a  cut  in  wages. 

Tom- — Say,  what  ticket  did  you  geezers  vote  at  last 
election  ? 

Harry — What  ticket  did  we  vote  ?  I  don’t*  see  as  that’s 
got  anything  to  do  with  it,  but  I  voted  the  Republican 
ticket,  of  course. 

Tom — I  thought  so. 

Dick — Well,  you  don’t  catch  me  votin’  that  ticket.  I 
voted  the  good  old  Democratic  ticket — against  imperial¬ 
ism  and  government  by  injunction. 

Tom — Oh,  I  see!  (addressing  Harry)  You  voted  the 
Republican  ticket  because  you  are  satisfied ;  and  you  (ad¬ 
dressing  Dick)  voted  the  Democratic  ticket  because  you 
are  against  everything. 

Harry  (speaking  angrily) — You’re  mighty  cute  aint 
you.  I  suppose  you’re  too  nice  to  vote ! 

Tom — I  voted  all  right.  My  vote  was  cast  for  the  prin¬ 
ciples  that  will  make  it  possible  for  me  to  be  my  own  boss. 
You  voted  for  some  one  else  to  do  your  thinking  for  you. 

Dick — Well,  what  if  we  did?  They  know  more  nor 
we  do.  Workingmen  can’t  expect  to  be  nuthin’  but  work¬ 
ingmen,  and  we  can’t  know  as  much  as  the  bosses. 

Tom — Well,  if  you  are  satisfied  to  be  wage-slaves  all 
your  days,  be  consistent  and  don’t  find  fault  with  the  way 
the  bosses  treat  you.  Do  as  you  are  told  and  you’ll  do 
all  the  hard  work  and  they’ll  get  the  benefit  of  it.  As  for 
me,  I  recognize  their  authority  over  my  labor  v/hile  at 
work  for  them,  but  my  mind  is  my  own  and  I  vote  as  I 
strike — for  better  conditions. 

(Whistle  blows,  and  Dick  and  Harry  hurry  to  its  call, 
while  Tom  folds  his  paper  and  walks  leisurely,  as  though 
he  were  not  afraid  of  his  life.) 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS.  33 


RING  THE  BELLS. 

Ring  the  bells  !  Ring !  Ring !  Ring ! 
Tidings  of  joy  I  bring. 

He  whom  we  ’counted  slain, 

Draws  breath  of  life  again. 

Ring  the  bells !  Ring! 

Ring  the  bells !  Ring  I  Ring !  Ring ! 
Labor  has  learned  his  right ; 

Opens  his  eyes  to  light; 

Rises  again  in  might. 

Ring  the  bells  !  Ring ! 

Ring  the  bells  !  Ring  I  Ring !  Ring ! 
Wonderful  news  I  bring. 

Gone  is  the  lust  of  blood ; 

Gone  is  the  cry  for  food. 

Ring  the  bells  !  Ring ! 

• 

Ring  the  bells  1  Ring  I  Ring  1  Ring ! 
Hark  to  the  news  I  bring. 

Men  have  their  manhood  found. 
Comrades  the  whole  world  round. 
Ring  the  bells  !  Ring ! 


J.  R.  Cole. 


34  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 


A  CRY  FROM  THE  GHETTO. 

{From  the  Yiddish  of  Morris  Rosenfeld.) 

The  roaring  of  the  wheels  has.  filled  my  ears, 

The  clashing  and  the  clamor  shut  me  in; 

Myself,  my  soul,  in  chaos  disappears,  I  cannot  think  or 
feel  amid  the  din. 

Toiling  and  toiling  and  toiling — endless  toil. 

For  whom?  For  what?  Why  should  the  work  be  done? 
I  do  not  ask,  or  know.  I  only  toil. 

I  work  until  the  day  and  night  are  one. 

The  clock  above  me  ticks  away  the  day. 

Its  hands  are  spinning,  spinning,  like  the  wheels. 

It  cannot  sleep  or  for  a  moment  stay. 

It  is  a  thing  like  me,  and  does  not  feel. 

It  throbs  as  tho’  my  heart  were  beating  there — ■ 

A  heart?  My  heart?  I  know  not  what  it  means. 

The  clock  ticks,  and  below  I  strive  and  stare. 

And  so  we  lose  the  hour.  We  are  machines. 

Noon  calls  a  truce,  an  ending  to  the  sound. 

As  if  a  battle  had  one  moment  stayed — 

A  bloody  field  !  The  dead  lie  all  around ; 

Their  wounds  cry  out  until  I  grow  afraid. 

It  comes — the  signal !  See,  the  dead  men  rise. 

They  fight  again,  amid  the  roar  they  fight. 

Blindly,  and  knowing  not  for  whom,  or  why. 

They  fight,  they  fall,  they  sink  into  the  night. 

The  Socialist  Spirit. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS.  35 

A  SOCIAL  PROBLEM. 

DIALOGUE  FOR  TWO  BOYS. 

Boy — Sa}^,  pa!  (Pa  pretends  not  to  hear.) 

Boy — Say,  pa!  (Willie’s  eyes  are  round  and  ques¬ 
tioning.) 

Pa — Don’t  bother,  I’m  busy. 

Boy — Well,  but  pa.  I  want  to  know - 

Pa — Oh,  don’t  bother  me.  (A  pause.) 

Boy — Say,  pa ! 

Pa — Well,  what  is  it? 

Boy — Say,  pa,  were  you  ever  hungry  ? 

Pa — Hungry  !  Why,  of  course. 

Boy — I  mean  very  hungry — have  nothing  to  eat  for  a 
long,  long  time? 

Pa — Of  course,  not ;  it’s  only  lazy  people  who  are. 

Boy — Oh!  Is  Tom  Smith  lazy? 

Pa — Who  ? 

Boy — Tom  Smith,  the  man  you  sent  away  from  the 
mills,  ’cos  you  said  times  was  bad,  an’  you  couldn’t  afford 
to  keep  him. 

Pa — Why — er — Smith  always  seemed  steady  and  in¬ 
dustrious. 

Boy — -’Dustrious  meaiLS,  not  lazy  ? 

Pa — Yes,  my  son. 

Boy — Well,  Tom  Smith  is  starving.  Lie’s  all  thin  an’ — • 
Say,  is  times  bad  now  ? 

Pa — Yes,  my  son,  work  is  slack. 

Boy — There’s  whole  lots  of  stuff  in  the  mills,  aint  there  ? 

Pa — Yes.  Now,  I’m  glad  to  see  you  taking  an  interest. 
Will,  and  I’ll  explain.  You  see,  that’s  just  it,  all  that 
stuff  can’t  be  sold;  there’s  too  much  of  it;  we’ve  made 
more  than  is  wanted,  so  we  must  wait  until  it’s  sold ;  then 
we  can  make  some  more. 

Boy — Why  aint  it  sold,  pa?  There’s  lots  of  people 
haven’t  got  clothes.  I  saw  a  little  boy  all  in  rags  today. 


36  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 

an’  I  see  lots  other  times.  Why  can’t  they  get  them  when 
there’s  such  lots  of  cloth  an’  stuff? 

Pa — Why,  my  dear  boy,  because  they  haven’t  the 
money. 

Boy — Why  haven’t  they  the  money  ? 

Pa — Well — er — I  don’t  know;  probably  because  they 
are  careless,  or  perhaps  they  drink,  or  their  fathers  do. 

Boy — Pa,  why  don’t  you  give  that  cloth  to  some  of  the 
people  that  haven’t  any  clothes,  an’  then - 

Pa — My  son,  you  don’t  understand ;  I  could  not  do  such 
a  thing,  or  perhaps  you  would  have  no  clothes. 

Boy — An’  you  wouldn’t  like  that,  pa? 

Pa — Of  course,  not. 

Boy — Do  you  s’pose  that  little  boy’s  pa  likes  it  ? 

Pa — No,  I  expect  not,  but  these  things  must  be;  it’s 
our  duty  to  help  the  deserving  poor. 

Boy — Let’s  help  Tom  Smith,  then,  pa.  Seems  like  you 
ought;  it’s  your  fault  he’s  out  of  work,  aint  it? 

Pa — My  fault !  Certainly  not.  I  have  already  ex¬ 
plained,  William,  that  I  have  no  work  for  the  man. 

Boy — Well,  his  little  girl  is  awfully  sick.  Can’t  you 
send  her  to  the  beach  ? 

Pa — ^William !  I  have  not  money  to  spare  to  send  every 
child  that  is  sick  to  the  beach ;  and,  besides,  it  would  only 
put  notions  in  her  head  that  are  not  good  for’  her.  She’ll 
get  along  all  right. 

Boy — When  I  was  sick  I  went  to  the  beach. 

Pa — Well,  be  thankful  you  have  a  father  who  can  af¬ 
ford  to  send  you. 

Boy — Do  you  think  Tom  Smith’s  little  girl  is  thankful  ? 

Pa — Why — er — she  ought  to  be. 

Boy — ^What  for?  ’Cos  she’s  sick,  an’  can’t  go  to  the 
beach,  an’  her  pa’s  out  of  work  ? 

Pa  Well,  it’s  her  duty  to  be  grateful  and  contented, 
and  bear  the  chastenings  of  God. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS.  37 

Boy — Did  God  make  it  so  you  had  to  send  Tom  Smith 
away? 

Pa— Eh?  Oh,  don’t  ask  such  ridiculous  questions. 

Boy — Well,  pa!  but  did  He? 

Pa — Er — oh,  I  don’t  know ;  I  guess  so. 

Boy — Well,  is  the  Lord’s  prayer  true. 

Pa — Certainly  it  is. 

Boy— Well,  it  says ;  “Thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is 
in  heaven.”  Do  they  do  so  in  heaven? 

Pa — Do  what? 

Boy — Why,  have  some  people  as  has  a  good  time,  an’ 
others  that  has  a  bad  time? 

•  Pa — No ;  they  all  have  a  good  time  in  heaven. 

Boy— Well,  I  don’t  see—  Say,  pa !  does  God  like  you 
having  a  saloon? 

Pa — What  I 

Boy — Why,  I  heard  you  talking  about  it  the  other  day ; 
you  said  what  lots  of  money  it  brought  you.  Tom  Smith 

went  there  today. 

Pa _ William  1  These  are  things  you  are  too  young  to 

understand. 

Boy— Tom  Smith  looked  at  the  door  a  long  time,  an’ 
then  he  went  in,  an’  he  says,  I  must  forget,  I  must  for¬ 
get.”  I  ’spect  he  wanted  to  forget  how  bad  things  was 
at  home,  didn’t  he  ? 

Pa _ William,  if  the  man  is  such  a  fool  as  to  spend  his 

money  on  drink,  he  must  expect  to  be  poor. 

Boy— Would  you  keep  a  saloon  if  it  didn’t  pay  ? 

Pa — Of  course  not. 

Boy _ Tom  Smith’s  money  helps  me  to  have  things, 

doesn’t  it? 

Pa_Er— yes,  yes.  There,  that’s  enough;  go  to  bed 
now,  like  a  good  boy. 

Boy— Didn’t  Tom  Smith  help  make  cloth  in  the  mills, 
too  ? 


38  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 


Pa — He  made  cloth,  and  I  paid  him  for  doing  it. 

Boy — Well,  you  had  to  have  some  one,  didn’t  you? 

Pa — Oh,  yes. 

Boy— Well — then  Tom  Smith  pays  you  for  a  drink, 
and  Tom  Smith  helped  you  get  your  cloth  made.  Don’t 
you  think  you  ought  to  help  Tom  Smith? 

Pa — William,  if  you  ask  another  question  Pll  whip  you. 
Go  to  bed  at  once — and,  William,  Tom  Smith  shall  have 
work  tomorrow. 

(Boy  goes  out.) 

Pa  (left  alone,  mutters  angrily) — Plague  take  that  child 
and  his  unanswerable  questions.  My  hiring  Tom  Smith 
will  not  help  the  rest  of  the  starving  people,  and — good 
heavens !  its  horrible  to  think  of — but  what  can  I  do.  Oh, 
pshaw !  it’s  no  use  getting  worked  up  over  it.  I’ll  give 
Tom  Smith  work  to  please  the  boy,  but  1  can’t  be  doing 
much  of  that  kind  of  thing,  or  I’ll  be  ruined  myself,  and 
what  good  would  that  do.  That  crazy  fool  of  a  Socialist 
that  I  heard  ranting  on  the  street  had  one  thing  right 
when  he  said  the  employers  could  not  settle  the  question. 
I  should  say  not ;  it’s  too  much  for  me.  Let  Tom  Smith 
and  the  rest  of  his  kind  work  it  out  for  themselves,  I  and 
the  other  employers  have  enough  to  do  to  take  care  of 
ourselves. 

Ethel  Whitehead. 

Pasadena,  California. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS.  39 


THE  WOLF  AT  THE  DOOR. 

There’s  a  haunting  horror  near  us 
That  nothing  drives  away — 

Fierce  lamping  eyes  at  nightfall, 

A  crouching  shade  by  day ; 

There’s  a  whining  at  the  threshold, 

There’s  a  scratching  at  the  floor — 

To  work  !  To  work  !  In  Heaven’s  name  ! 

The  wolf  is  at  the  door ! 

The  day  was  long,  the  night  was  short, 

The  bed  was  hard  and  cold. 

Still  weary  are  the  little  ones. 

Still  weary  are  the  old. 

We  are  weary  in  our  cradles. 

From  our  mother’s  toil  untold. 

We  are  born  to  hoarded  weariness. 

As  some  to  hoarded  gold. 

We  will  not  rise!  We  will  not  work; 

Nothing  the  day  can  give 
Is  half  so  sweet  as  an  hour  of  sleep ; 

Better  to  sleep  than  live ! 

What  power  can  stir  these  heavy  limbs  ? 

What  hope  these  dull  hearts  swell  ? 

What  fear  more  cold,  what  pain  more  sharp. 
Than  the  life  we  know  so  well  ? 

To  die  like  a  man  by  lead  or  by  steel 
Is  nothing  that  we  should  fear ; 

No  human  death  would  be  worse  to  feel 
Than  the  life  that  holds  us  here. 

But  this  is  a  fear  that  no  heart  can  face — 

A  fate  no  man  can  dare — 

To  be  run  to  the  earth  and  die  by  the  teeth 
Of  the  gnawing  monster  there. 

The  slow,  relentless,  padding  step 
That  never  goes  astray — 


40  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS. 


The  rustle  in  the  uiiderbush — 

The  shadow  in  the  way — • 

The  straining  flight — the  long  pursuit — 

The  steady  gain  behind — 

Death-wearied  man  and  tireless  brute, 

And  the  struggle  wild  and  blind ! 

There’s  a  hot  breath  at  the  keyhole 
And  a  tearing  as  of  teeth ! 

Well  do  I  know  the  bloodshot  eyes 
And  the  dripping  jaws  beneath  ! 

There’s  a  whining  at  the  threshold — 

There’s  a  scratching  at  the  floor — 

To  work!  To  work!  in  Heaven’s  name! 

The  wolf  is  at  the  door. 

Charlotte  Perkins  Gilman. 


A  MARCHING  SONG. 

There  are  fruits  to  be  gathered  in  the  gardens  of  the  gods, 
Come,  Brother,  come. 

There  are  sheaves  to  be  garnered,  there  are  grapes  to 
be  trod. 

Come,  Brother,  come. 

Rich  are  the  treasures  in  the  land  of  our  desire. 

Sweet  are  the  pleasures  to  which  our  hearts  aspire. 

Under  the  willows  we  build  our  evening  fire. 

Come,  Brother,  come. 

Freemen  and  bold  do  we  march  by  the  way. 

Come,  Brother,  come. 

Onward  we  journey  in  the  light  of  the  day. 

Come,  Brother,  come. 

Green  are  the  fields  in  the  land  we  shall  gain. 

Fair  are  the  hillsides,  and  fertile  the  plain. 

Sweet  are  its  waters,  and  golden  its  grain. 

Come,  Brother,  come. 

The  hands  that  can  pluck  are  the  hands  that  shall  hold, 
Come,  Brother,  come. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS  41 


Ours  for  the  taking  are  the  silver  and  gold, 

Come,  Brother,  come. 

Long  in  that  land  of  delight  will  we  stay, 

’Mid  its  green  pastures  our  children  shall  play, 
daily  we  journey,  and  we  sing  hy  the  way, 

Come,  Brother,  come. 

J.  R.  Cole. 


A  HINT  TO  THE  WISE. 

DIALOGUE  FOR  TWO  GIRLS. 

Mrs.  A. — Did  you  see  the  Woman’s  Column  in  the 
last  issue  of  the  “Coming  Nation”? 

Mrs.  B. — No;  Jack  just  grabbed  that  paper  and  stuck 
it  in  his  pocket  and  carried  it  off  before  I  had  time  to  look 
at  it.  I  simply  can’t  break  him  of  that.  The  minute  he 
sees  a  paper,  he  picks  it  up  and  begins  to  read  it,  and  be¬ 
fore  I  know  it  he  has  carried  it  off  to  the  shop  with  him 
and  given  it  away. 

Mrs.  A. — Well,  why  don’t  you  have  a  paper  coming  in 
your  own  name,  so  that  you  can  get  a  chance  to  read  it? 

Mrs.  B. — Goodness  sake!  We  are  taking  about  a  hun¬ 
dred  magazines  and  papers  now.  Jack  takes  all  the  So¬ 
cialist  papers  he  knows  about,  and  bundles  of  some  of 
them. 

Mrs.  A. — And  all  in  his  own  name,  I  suppose. 

Mrs.  B. — Oh,  yes,  they’re  in  his  name. 

Mrs.  A. — Well,  it’s  no  wonder  the  managers  of  Socialist 
papers  don’t  give  much  space  to  tlie  women,  when  all 
their  subs,  come  in  in  men’s  names. 

Mrs.  B. — Well,  I  do  just  as  much  work  for  the  cause 
as  Jack  does,  I  reckon,  down  there  at  the  hall  washing  up 
all  the  dishes  after  the  last  entertainment,  training  Minnie 
and  Robbie  to  sing  Socialist  songs  for  the  concert,  and 
o-etting  dinner  for  every  stray  Socialist  that  comes  to 
town.  Tack  brings  them  all  here.  Of  course,  I’m  glad 
to  see  them,  but  I  think  that’s  work  for  Socialism  as  much 
js  anything  Jack  does. 

A. — Of  course,  it  is,  hut  the  managers  of  the 


42  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS 


papers  don’t  know  anything-  about  it.  All  they  know 
about  is  the  names  of  subscribers,  and  if  those  names  are 
all  men’s  names,  they  take  it  for  granted  that  the  workers 
are  all  men.  You  believe  in  equal  opportunity  for  women 
and  men,  don’t  you? 

Mrs.  B. — -Why,  yes,  of  course  I  do. 

Mrs.  A. — Well,  then,  you  just  request  Jack  to  have  half 
of  all  the  magazines  and  papers  be  orders  come  in  your 
name,  and  when  you  g'et  yours,  hold  on  to  them  long 
enough  to  read  them.  Good-by. 

(Outside  the  door.)  I’ll  bet  she  won’t  have  spunk 
enough  to  say  that  she  wants  one  paper  coming  in  her 
own  name,  let  alone  half.  J.  R.  Cole. 


TBIE  COWARD. 

Who  fails  to  strike  when  man’s  assailed. 

For  fear  of  selfish  pain  or  loss ; 

Who  weakly  cowers  when  right  is  nailed 
Upon  the  proud  world’s  heavy  cross ; 

Who  fails  to  speak  the  splendid  word 
Of  hold  defiance  to  a  lie  ; 

Whose  voice  for  truth  is  faintly  heard 
When  party  passions  mount  on  high, 

That  man’s  a  coward ;  and  no  deeds 
Of  valor  done  on  fields  of  strife 
Can  prove  his  courage.  Battle  meeds 
Are  naught  beside  a  tested  life. 

Who  dallies  with  temptation’s  lure 
Nor  hurls  his  tempter  to  the  ground ; 

Who  champions  not  the  weak,  the  poor. 

Whom  power  and  strength  with  cords  have  bound ; 
Who  crouches  ’neath  opinion’s  lash, 

Nor  dares  his  own  true  thought  proclaim  ; 

Who  never  with  an  impulse  rash 
Ran  on  before  his  time,  is  tame. 

Is  coward,  and  no  work  uprears 

Which  lasts.  Truth’s  edict  from  on  high 
Says  courage  shall  outlast  the  years, 

But  every  coward  soul  shall  die. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS  43 


ONE  OF  THE  PEOPLE. 

I  am  one  of  the  common  people,  of  the  great  unbred  stock 

Who  plant,  and  gather  the  harvest,  and  tend  the  herd  and 
the  flock ; 

Those  who  sail  across  the  waters,  and  burrow  in  the  mine ; 

Who  spin  and  weave,  and  fashion  the  robe,  and  trace  the 
jeweled  design; 

Whose  hands  have  forged  the  plow-share,  and  tempered 
the  fine-wu'ought  steel ; 

Who  have  shaped  the  sail  and  the  rudder,  and  built  the 
loom  and  the  wheel ; 

Who  have  changed  the  earth  to  a  garden,  to  meet  the 
need  of  man ; 

Who  have  done  the  work  of  the  human  race  since  the 
human  race  began. 

Oh,  I  am  one  of  the  people,  and  I  glory  in  my  birth ; 

No  good  for  me  that  cannot  be  shared  by  my  kin  through 
all  the  earth ; 

No  glory  or  favor  to  set  me  apart,  only  the  knowledge 
good 

That  I  am  one  of  the  many,  born  of  their  flesh  and  blood. 

Only  to  share  the  common  joy,  and  carry  the  common 
load. 

To  meet  and  greet  my  brothers  along  the  dusty  road; 

To  stand  with  my  fellows  side  by  side,  and  meet  them  eye 
to  eye. 

Just  to  be  one  of  the  common  stock,  who  toil  and  love 
and  die. 

Yes,  I  am  of  the  people,  of  the  great  unhred  stock 

Who  sow  the  seed,  and  gather  the  grain,  and  tend  the 
herd  and  the  flock. 

No  good  for  me  that  cannot  be  shared  by  my  kin  through 
all  the  earth ; 

I  am  one  of  the  common  people,  and  I  glory  in  my  birth. 

J.  R.  C. 


44  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS 

AT  THE  WOMAN’S  UNION  MEETING. 

DIALOGUE  FOR  YOUNG  WOMEN. 

DIALOGUE. 

Emma  Jane — Oh,  dear!  This  is  discouraging.  Here 
we  are,  just  the  same  four  people  who  are  always  here, 
and  no  one  else.  And  they  all  say  they  will  come;  oh, 
they  are  very  anxious  to  come.  They  are  all  so  inter¬ 
ested  in  Socialism,  and  want  to  learn  more  about  it,  but 
when  the  night  of  meeting  comes  no  one  appears. 

Ethelinda — I  don’t  think  the  organizations  are  what 
will  bring  about  Socialism,  anyway.  I  think  you  can  do 
more  outside  the  organizations  than  inside  them.  I  have 
made  a  great  many  Socialists,  just  by  conversation,  and 
lending  them  books  and  papers.  They  are  thorough  So¬ 
cialists,  but  they  don’t  belong  to  our  Socialist  organiza¬ 
tions. 

Emma  Jane — Do  you  mean  'that  you  don’t  believe  in 
the  usefulness  of  the  Socialist  Party — or  of  the  Woman’s 
Socialist  Union — or  that  you  don’t  believe  that  any  sort 
of  organization  is  useful  for  our  propaganda  work? 

Ethelinda — I  mean  any  sort  of  organization.  I  think 
we  can  do  more  acting  as  individuals,  speaking  to  our 
friends,  and  distributing  literature,  than  we  can  do  either 
in  the  Socialist  party  or  the  Woman’s  Socialist  Union. 

Nellie — Well,  I  never  would  have  met  any  of  you  girls 
if  it  hadn’t  been  for  this  Union,  and  I  didn’t  know  much 
of  anything  about  Socialism  until  I  got  acquainted  with 
the  rest  of  you,  and  we  talked  things  over. 

Florence — I  hold  that  we  have  done  a  great  deal  for  so 
small  a  number.  W e  always  have  a  good  attendance  at 
our  socials ;  and  our  box  in  the  park,  for  Socialist  litera¬ 
ture,  is  doing  lots  of  good.  Besides,  didn’t  we  have  one 
of  the  bright,  shining  lights  of  Socialism  come  here  and 
speak  under  our  auspices  ?  I  think  we  ought  to  take  pride 
in  ourselves. 

Emma  Jane — Yes,  but  let’s  come  back  to  what  Ethe¬ 
linda  says  about  our  doing  more  as  individuals  than  we 
can  in  an  organization.  Let’s  think  that  over. 

Ethelinda — Of  course,  it  is  pleasant  meeting  you  girls. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS  45 

and  I  am  willing  to  do  my  part  toward  keeping  the  thing 
going,  as  you  know,  and  take  my  share  of  the  work ;  but 
what  I  say  is  that  we  cannot  do  a  great  deal  of  propa¬ 
ganda  in  this  way,  and  I  believe  that  individual  action 
is  better. 

Emma  Jane — Now  answer  me  this,  Ethelinda,  isn’t^  it 
Socialist  doctrine  that  the  organization  of  our  industries 
is  going  to  be  a  great  saving  of  labor,  and  don’t  we  claim 
that  we  shall  get  better  results  from  the  same  effort  when 
labor  is  organized  than  we  do  now  ?  And  don  t  the  So¬ 
cialists  all  claim  that  one  of  the  chief  reasons  that  people 
are  poor  today  is  that  labor  is  wasted  by  individual  effort 
put  forth  without  system  or  mutual  understanding;  that 
is,  without  organization? 

Ethelinda — Why,  yes,  of  course.  _  _ 

Emma  Jane — Then  how  can  you  claim  to  be  a  Socialist 
if  you  think  that  individuals  can  accomplish  more  acting 
separately  than  they  can  when  acting  together? 

Ethelinda — H-m-m ! 

Emma  Jane — Why,  Ethelinda,  on  what  ground  do  you 
advocate  Socialism,  if  you  think  individual  effort  is  more 

profitable?  _  _  n  • 

Nellie — I  guess  she  has  been  thinking  of  the  collective 

ownership  side  of  the  question,  and  imagining  how  nice 
it  would  be  to  get  her  share  of  the  good  things. 

Emma  Jane— Oh,  yes,  I  see!  But  once  we  gain  our 
collective  ownership,  how  can  we  keep  our  ownership^  if 
we  do  not  organize  ourselves  for  the  management  of  it? 
This  is  just  as  essential  to  Socialist  principle  as  the  get¬ 
ting  possession.  .  ,  .  • 

No,  girls,  I  am  sure  it  is  not  the  principle  of  organization 
that  is  at  fault  if  we  don’t  do  as  much  as  we  would  like. 
It  is  our  fault.  We  haven’t  found  the  best  way  of  work¬ 
ing.  If  socials  and  distribution  of  literature  are  most  effec¬ 
tive,  then  we  must  give  ourselves  up  to  socials  and  litera¬ 
ture,  and  drop  the  plans  that  don’t  work.  Of  course,  I 
don’t  claim  that  our  organizations  coyer  the  whole  ground. 
There  is  plenty  of  room  for  individual  effort,  too,  and 
maybe  just  now  individuals  are  doing  more  than  our  or- 


46  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS 

g-anization,  but  that  isn’t  the  question.  The  question  is 
this :  Can  any  certain  number  of  people  who  want  to 
spread  Socialist  doctrine  do  more  by  uniting  and  co-oper¬ 
ating  than  by  acting  independently?  If  they  can’t,  then 
I  hold  that  we  might  as  well  drop  the  Socialist  propa¬ 
ganda  at  once,  for  if  we  cannot  get  better  returns  for 
our  labor  by  co-operating  than  by  acting  independently, 
then  Socialism  is  a  misleading  vision. 

Florence — I  notice  that  it  is  the  organizations  the  capi¬ 
talists  are  afraid  of.  We  might  talk  sentiment  as  much 
as  we  please,  and  they  wouldn’t  care,  but  when  we  get  to¬ 
gether  they  begin  to  be  interested. 

Emma  Jane — For  my  own  part,  I  believe  that  it  is  the 
people  who  are  practicing  organization  and  co-operation 
in  different  lines  of  work,  who  are  bringing  about  the  co¬ 
operative  commonwealth,  far  more  than  those  who  are 
preaching  it  and  not  practicing  it.  I  don’t  mean  the  co¬ 
operative  colonies,  either,  though  they  are  honestly  trying 
to  live  up  to  their  creed.  What  I  mean  is  the  organiza¬ 
tion  of  industry  going  on  everywhere,  the  combinations 
of  business  firms,  the  consolidations  of  similar  enterprises, 
the  getting  together  of  workmen  in  labor  unions.  These 
people  are  putting  into  practice  a  part  of  our  teaching; 
that  is,  that  co-operation  and  organization  are  useful  and 
efficient.  They  are  proving  the  truth  of  this  theory,  even 
if  they  don’t  profess  it.  I  can’t  help  being  discouraged 
when  I  see  how  far  we  fall  short  of  doing  what  we  hoped 
to  do,  but  I  still  cling  desperately  to  my  faith  in  the  prin¬ 
ciple  of  organization,  and  am  ready  to  believe  that  our 
union  will  yet  prove  its  usefulness. 

J.  R.  Cole. 


A  QUEER  LITTLE  COBBLER. 

A  queer  little  cobbler,  I’ve  heard  people  say. 

Sat  stitching  and  stitching  the  whole  livelong  day. 

^^It  is  very  hard  work,  but  no  matter,”  quoth  he, 

Eor  the  shoes  of  the  people  depend  upon  me. 

Though  the  leather  be  tough,  there’s  but  one  thing  to  do — 
1 11  pull  and  1 11  push  till  the  needle  goes  through !” 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS  47 


His  queer  little  wife  came  and  coaxed  him,  “My  dear. 
With  leather  like  that  it  will  take  you  a  year,” 

And  the  folks  in  the  street  stopped  and  said,  “My 
good  sir, 

You  may  pull  and  may  push,  hut  your  needle  won’t  stir.” 
But  the  cobbler  stitched  on.  “And  whatever  I  do,” 

He  said,  “I  shall  work  till  this  needle  goes  through !” 

He  sat  on  the  bench  till  it  verged  upon  night. 

His  wife  lit  a  candle  and  brought  it  for  light. 

“  ’Tis  at  times  rather  hard,”  with  a  sigh,  remarked  he, 
“That  the  shoes  of  the  people  depend  upon  me. 

But  since  it  is  so  there’s  but  one  thing  to  do !” 

So  he  pulled  and  he  pushed,  and  the  needle  went  through. 

Kate  Cameeon  in  St.  Nicholas. 


AN  OBSTACLE. 

I  was  climbing  up  a  mountain-path 
With  many  things  to  do. 

Important  business  of  my  own, 

And  other  people’s  too, 

When  I  ran  against  a  Prejudice 
That  quite  cut  off  the  view. 

My  work  was  such  as  could  not  wait. 
My  path  quite  clearly  showed. 

My  strength  and  time  were  limited, 

I  carried  quite  a  load ; 

And  there  that  hulking  Prejudice 
Sat  all  across  the  road. 

So  I  spoke  to  him  politely. 

For  he  was  huge  and  high, 

And  begged  that  he  would  move  a  hit 
And  let  me  travel  by. 

Pie  smiled,  but  as  for  moving  !— 

He  didn’t  even  try. 


And  then  I  reasoned  quietly 


48  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS 


With  that  colossal  mule: 

My  time  was  short — no  other  path — 

The  mountain  winds  were  cool. 

I  argued  like  a  Solomon ; 

He  sat  there  like  a  fool. 

Then  I  flew  into  a  passion, 

I  danced  and  howled  and  swore. 

I  pelted  and  belabored  him 
Till  I  was  stiff  and  sore; 

He  got  as  mad  as  I  did — ■ 

But  he  sat  there  as  before. 

And  then  I  begged  him  on  my  knees ; 

I  might  be  kneeling  still 
If  so  I  hoped  to  move  that  mass 
Of  obdurate  ill-will — 

•  ,  As  well  invite  the  monument 

To  vacate  Bunker  Hill ! 

So  I  sat  before  him  helpless. 

In  an  ecstasy  of  woe — ■ 

The  mountain  mists  were  rising  fast, 

The  sun  was  sinking  slow — 

When  a  sudden  inspiration  came, 

As  sudden  winds  do  blow. 

I  took  my  hat,  I  took  my  stick, 

My  load  I  settled  fair, 

I  approached  that  awful  incubus 
With  an  absent-minded  air — ■ 

And  I  walked  directly  thru  him, 

As  if  he  wasn’t  there  !” 

Charlotte  Perkins  Gilman. 


THE  OVERFLOW. 

A  little  bird  woke  suddenly 
And  burst  out  into  song. 

The  glad,  sweet  notes  it  caroled  forth 
Were  heard  the  whole  day  long. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS  49 

For  when  it  raised  its  little  voice 
And  sang  so  cheerily, 

A  dozen  other  songsters  near 
Woke  up  and  sang  with  glee. 

And  soon  the  birds  for  miles  around 
Were  echoing  that  song; 

Now  here,  now  there,  the  chorus  rose 
And  ever  rolled  along. 

Somehow  that  woodland  happiness 
Found  way  to  haunts  of  men ; 

Reflected  in  bright  faces  there. 

Its  beauty  glowed  again. 

And  so  the  sweetness  and  the  joy 
Of  that  first  waking  bird 

Were,  here  and  there,  the  livelong  day, 
Continuously  heard. 

Thus  life  flows  on  to  more  and  more 
And  larger  sympathy. 

And  souls  feed  on  the  overflow 
Of  souls  that  may  not  see. 

Allan  Brant. 


THE  FATHER  OF  LIES. 

With  his  black,  black  heart,  and  his  swarthy  skin, 
And  his  evil  eyes,  he  stands. 

Toil  has  not  hardened  his  slender  frame. 

Nor  stiffened  his  supple  hands; 

But  ever  he  watches  the  deeds  of  men 
With  a  satisfaction  grim. 

And  aids  in  the  schemes,  and  fosters  the  dreams 
Of  those  who  a])peal  to  him. 

He  sees  the  maid  in  her  lover’s  arms ; 

He  notes  the  fond  caress ; 

And  he  hates  with  the  bitter  hate  of  hell, 


50  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS 

The  love  that  can  cheer  and  bless. 

And  still  with  a  free  and  ready  hand 
He  feeds  the  lips  with  lies ; 

Till  the  joy  to  sorrow  and  bitterness  turns, 

And  the  winner  spurns  the  prize. 

But  ’tis  with  a  covert,  cynical  smile 
He  turns  from  the  sight  again; 

For  he  knows  that  the  man  who  has  bartered  his  truth. 
The  slayer  himself  is  slain. 

The  priests  and  the  preachers  and  teachers  of  men. 

All  pay  him  obeisance  sweet. 

And  wonderful  tales  from  their  lips  flow  forth. 

In  words  that  are  fine  and  meet ; 

But  the  stumbling  feet  and  the  blinded  eyes 
For  guidance  ask  in  vain. 

They  seek  the  truth,  and  ye  give  them  lies. 

Ye  misled  leaders  of  men. 

Honored  and  great  in  the  Halls  of  State 
Sit  the  mighty  of  the  land. 

The  people  toil  and  sweat  and  moil. 

They  feed  them  from  their  hand. 

And  “Order”  and  “Justice,”  and  “Law”  they  speak. 
But  the  prisons  ring  with  cries. 

And  the  law  is  sold  and  bought  with  gold. 

Lies,  lies,  and  only  lies ! 

With  an  air  sedate,  and  a  sober  mien 
The  good  man  comes  and  goes. 

Fie  pays  his  tax,  he  fears  the  laws ; 

’Tis  said  he  has  no  foes. 

But  the  Father  of  Lies  and  he  are  friends. 

Old  friends,  I  do  aver. 

His  heart  is  a  dwelling  of  the  dead, 

A  whited  sepulchre. 

And  over  it  all  he  aye  looks  on. 

With  his  dark  and  evil  eyes. 

And  joys  in  the  ruin,  the  pain  and  wrong, 

The  infamous  Father  of  Lies. 


J.  R.  Cole. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS  51 

THE  DAY  OF  THE  LORD  IS  AT  HAND. 

The  Day  of  the  Lord  is  at  hand,  at  hand ! 

Its  storms  roll  up  the  sky ; 

The  nations  sleep  starving  on  heaps  of  gold ; 

All  dreamers  toss  and  sigh ; 

The  night  is  darkest  before  the  morn ; 

When  the  clouds  are  heavy,  then  breaks  the  dawn ; 
And  the  Day  of  the  Lord  is  at  hand ! 

The  Day  of  the  Lord  is  at  hand ! 

Gather  you,  gather  you,  angels  of  God — 

Freedom  and  Mercy  and  Truth ! 

Oh,  come !  for  the  earth  is  grown  coward  and  old ! 

Come  down,  and  renew  us  her  youth. 

Wisdom,  Self-sacrifice,  Daring  and  Love, 

Haste  to  the  battle-field,  stoop  from  above 
To  the  Day  of  the  Lord  at  hand ! 

The  Day  of  the  Lord  at  hand ! 

Gather  you,  gather  you,  hounds  of  Llell 
Famine  and  Plague  and  War ; 

Idleness,  Bigotry,  Cant  and  Misrule, 

Gather,  and  fall  in  the  snare ! 

Hireling,  Mammonite,  Bigot  and  Knave, 

Crawl  to  the  battle-field,  sneak  to  your  grave. 

In  the  Day  of  the  Lord  at  hand ! 

The  Day  of  the  Lord  at  hand! 

Who’d  sit  down  and  sign  for  a  lost  age  of  gold. 

While  the  Lord  of  All  Ages  is  here  ? 

True  hearts  will  leap  up  at  the  trumpet  of  God, 

And  those  who  can  suffer  can  dare. 

Each  old  age  of  gold  was  an  iron  age,  too. 

And  the  meekest  of  saints  may  find  stern  work  to  do. 
In  the  Day  of  the  Lord  at  hand  1 
The  Day  of  the  Lord  at  hand ! 

Charles  Kingsley.  . 


52  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS 


WHAT  IS  SOCIALISM? 

A  voice  that  cries  from  out  the  wilderness ; 
“Prepare  ye  for  the  coming  of  the  light 
That  will  the  crooked  paths  of  wrong  make  right.” 
’Tis  Mammon  facing  its  own  sordidness — 

The  world’s  awakening  unto  righteousness, 

The  passing  of  Humanity’s  long  night. 

’Tis  Freedom’s  dawn  now  breaking  on  the  sight. 
Dispelling  clouds  of  wrong  and  wretchedness. 

It  is  that  faith  that  finds  a  heaven  here; 

That  hope  that  looks  for  better  things  to Te ; 

The  charity  that  covers  error’s  bier, 

And  love  that  fills  the  world  with  harmony. 

It  is  the  drying  up  of  sorrow’s  tear, 

The  resurrection  morn  that  sets  us  free. 

Emma  E.  Hunt. 


SYMPATFIY. 

The  sweetest  thing  in  all  the  world  is  love — 

To  know  that  men  will  bear  each  other’s  pain  ; 
Since  man  will  sometimes  suifer  thus,  does  prove 
That  he  the  loftiest  heights  will  somehow  gain 

For  men  will  see  that  loving  sympathy, 
Resistlessly,  can  move  the  world  along — 

No  load  so  heavy  that  it  cannot  be 

Borne  by  a  world  united  ’gainst  the  wrong. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS  53 


IN  THE  DAYS  THAT  ARE  TO  BE.  • 

Oh,  for  the  Land  of  Peace ! 

The  land  of  love  and  peace; 

Where  a  common  tie  shall  the  millions  bind, 
And  the  thought  of  war  shall  cease ; 

Where  light  shall  illume  the  minds  of  men. 
And  their  eyes  shall  clearly  see 
That  the  good  of  one  is  the  good  of  all — 

In  the  days  that  are  to  be. 

Oh,  for  the  Land  of  Joy ! 

The  land  of  joy  and  good; 

Where  man  may  love  his  neighbor, 

And  life  shall  he  understood ; 

The  land  of  peace  and  plenty, 

Where  men  shall  surely  see 
That  the  good  of  one  is  the  good  of  all — 

In  the  days  that  are  to  be. 

Oh,  for  the  Land  of  Song ! 

The  land  of  song  and  mirth ; 

Where  men  shall  laugh  in  each  other’s  eyes. 
O’er  their  conquest  of  the  earth ; 

Where  the  fields  shall  be  crowned  with  harvest, 
And  every  eye  shall  see 
That  the  good  of  one  is  the  good  of  all — 

In  the  days  that  are  to  be. 

Oh,  for  that  Land  of  Happiness ! 

That  land  of  joy  and  light ; 

When  the  world  at  last  emerges 
From  the  darkness  of  her  night; 

When  Truth  shall  hold  the  sceptre, 

And  men  at  last  shall  see 
That  the  good  of  one  is  the  good  of  all — 

In  the  days  that  are  to  be. 

J.  R.  Cole. 


54  SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS 


O,  SAY,  WHAT  IS  TRUTH? 

O,  say,  what  is  truth?  ’Tis  the  fairest  gem 
That  the  riches  of  worlds  can  produce ; 

And  priceless  the  value  of  truth  will  be  when 

The  proud  monarch’s  costliest  diadem 
Is  counted  but  dross  and  refuse. 

Yes,  say  what  is  truth?  ’Tis  the  brightest  prize  .. 
To  which  mortals  or  gods  can  aspire ; 

Go,  search  in  the  depths  where  it  glittering  lies. 

Or  ascend  in  pursuit  to  the  loftiest  skies, 

’Tis  an  aim  for  the  noblest  desire. 

The  scepter  may  fall  from  the  despot’s  grasp 
When  with  winds  of  stern  justice  he  copes. 

But  the  pillar  of  truth  will  endure  to  the  last. 

And  its  firm-rooted  bulkworks  outstand  the  rude 
blast. 

And  the  wreck  of  the  fell  tyrant’s  hopes. 

Then  say  what  is  truth?  ’Tis  the  last  and  the  first. 
For  the  limits  of  time  it  steps  o’er ; 

Though  the  heavens  depart  and  the  earth’s  foun¬ 
tains  again  burst, 

Truth,  the  sum  of  existence,  will  weather  the  worst. 
Eternal,  unchanged,  evermore. 

John  Jaques. 


The  world’s  great  cup  of  sorrow  is  even  with  the  brim. 

Shall  I  add  one  drop  more? 

Men  drink  and  drain  the  cup,  yet  still  it  fills, 

’Tis  running  o’er. 

Struggling  for  life,  with  fear  and  anxious  eye. 

See  round  about  me  all  humanity ; 

Weak,  humbled,  erring,  even  as  am  I, 

With  disappointment  sore. 

On  every  side  the  cry  of  pain  goes  up ; 

Men  drinking  to  the  full  of  sorrow’s  cup ; 

Shall  I  add  more? 


J.  R.  C. 


SOCIALIST  SONGS,  DIALOGUES  AND  RECITATIONS  55 


AS  WE  GO  MARCHING  ON. 

VOCAL  SOLO. 

From  the  cabin  on  the  prairie  to  the  vaulted  city  dome, 

From  the  deep  and  briny  ocean  where  our  sailor  brothers 
roam, 

There  comes  to  us  glad  tidings  of  deliverance  to  come. 
As  we  go  marching  on. 

Chorus — Glory,  glory  hallelujah,  etc. 

We  have  wrought  among  the  furnace  fires,  we  have 
gathered  up  the  gold. 

We’ve  tilled  the  soil  and  reaped  the  grain  and  watched 
beside  the  fold, 

We’ve  starved  amid  abundance  and  we’ve  perished  with 
the  cold. 

And  we  go  marching  on. 

But  lo !  the  day  is  coming  when  the  wage  slave  shall  he 
free, 

With  peace  and  plenty  everywhere,  enough  for  you  and 
me ; 

When  equity  shall  triumph  over  dead  monopoly. 

As  we  go  marching  on. 

Social  Democrat. 


Stop  quarreling,  children !  Do  you  see  the  time  of  day . 

The  noon  has  come  and  gone. 

All  the  forenoon  you  wasted  in  your  play, 

And  soon  the  night  will  come ; 

The  long,  long  night  will  catch  you  unawares 
With  all  your  task  undone. 


THE  END. 


Library  of 

Science  for  the  Workers 


It  is  not  yet  fifty  years  since  Charles  Darwin  published 
his  revolutionary  w'ork  “The  Origin  of  Species,”  which 
introduced  a  totally  new  way  of  looking  at  the  universe 
and  at  man  in  his  relations  to  the  universe.  But  dur¬ 
ing  the  years  since  1859  the  view  of  Darwin  has  so 
completely  prevailed  that  not  a  single  scientist  of  even 
ordinary  intelligence  can  be  found  who  holds  to  the 
old  view  of  the  special  creation  of  the  world  and  of 
man  as  the  central  object  in  the  universe  for  whom  all 
the  rest  was  planned.  Once  in  a  wlrile  we  still  see 
sensational  newspaper  headings  to  the  effect  that  this 
or  that  prominent  scientist  has  forsaken  Darwinism, 
but  upon  reading  the  small  type  under  the  heading 
we  find  that  the  scientist  has  merely  discovered  some 
new  detail  in  the  correct  application  of  flie  theory 
of  evolution,  and  that  his  work  only  adds  new  proof 
of  the  correctness  of  the  theory  itself. 

A  generation  of  scientific  students  have  now  been 
applying  Darwin’s  method  to  every  branch  of  science. 
They  have  supplied  the  “missing  links”  in  the  chain 
of  evidence  which  he  offered  in  “The  Descent  of 
Man,”  and  they  have  accumulated  the  facts  to  prove 
that  “mind”  is  only  a  form  of  “life,”  differing  in  no 
essential  respect  from  the  life  -which  Ave  can  observe 
not  only  in  animals  but  also  in  plants.  Moreover,  the 
proof  is  already  all  but  complete  that  “life”  is  only 
a  form  of  that  “energy”  which  is  inseparable  from  all 
“matter,”  so  that  henceforth  we  must  think  of  man  as 


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LIBRARY  OF  SCIENCE  FOR  THE  WORKERS 


being  developed  and  governed  by  the  same  unchanging 
laws  that  control  the  movements  of  the  stars. 

So  it  is  that  modern  science  confirms  the  faith  of 
the  organized  laborers  of  the  civilized  world  that  the 
forces  of  the  universe  are  working  out  a  better  social 
order  in  which  the  parasitic  ruling  class,  now  become 
useless,  shall  disappear,  and  the  worker^  of  hand  and 
brain  shall  be  the  human  race. 

Until  lately  these  recent  scientific  writings,  with 
their  revolutionary  import,  have  been  entirely  out  of 
the  reach  of  the  working  people  of  America.  Either  they 
existed  only  in  foreign  langaiages  or  they  have  been' 
published  in  editions  so  expensive  or  in  a  literary 
style  so  difficult  as  to  be  out  of  reach  of  the  people 
who  live  by  doing  mseful  work. 

The  co-operative  publishing  house  of  Charles  H.  Kerr 
&  Company  has  therefore  undertaken  to  issue  in  cheap 
but  neat  and  durable  style  as  many  as  possible  of  the 
recent  scientific  books  -which  furnish  the  evidence  for 
these  revolutionary  conclusions.  The  volumes  described 
in  these  pages  will  be  followed  by  others  as  soon  as  the 
necessary  capital  can  be  raised  for  paying  the  cost  of 
publication. 

1.  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  MAN.  By  William  Boelsche. 
Translated  by  Ernest  Untermann.  Cloth,  illus¬ 
trated,  50  cents.  Fourth  thousand  now  ready. 

Professor  Boelsche,  of  Berlin,  is  recognized  as  the 
leading  popularizer  of  the  evolution  theory  in  Germany. 
In  this  book  he  has  chosen  the  form  of  a  simple  narra¬ 
tive,  which  makes  his  argument  easy  for  even  untrained 
readers  to  follow.  He  traces  the  history  of  man  back- 


LIBRARY  OF  SCIENCE  FOR  THE  WORKERS 

ward  by  aid  of  the  bronze  and  stone  tools  and  the 
fossils  that  show  man’s  life  history  on  the  earth  to  ex¬ 
tend  back  for  a  million  years, — a  j^eriod  far  longer  than 
was  claimed  by  the  earlier  evolutionists.  Starting  then 
with  the  cave-man  of  the  tertiary  period,  he  traces  the 
ancestry  of  man  backward  step  by  step  through  ever 
simpler  and  simpler  forms  of  life,  until  he  reaches  the 
animal  consisting  of  a  single  cell.  He  shows  then  how 
this  cell  itself  might  have  developed  from  matter  that 
we  call  “inorganic”  by  the  action  of  the  same  forces  that 
we  see  working  in  the  universe  todaJ^  The  book  is  illus¬ 
trated  with  many  engravings  showing  the  different 
forms  of  life  through  which  man  developed. 

“The  Evolution  of  ]\Ian”  has  met  with  an  instant  pop¬ 
ularity  far  beyond  what  the  iDublishers  had  counted  upon. 
It  contains  just  the  information  the  people  are  looking 
for,  and  it  sells  at  sight  wherever  it  is  introduced. 

2.  GERMS  OF  MIND  IN  PLANTS.  By  R.  H.  France. 
Translated  by  A.  M.  Simons.  Cloth,  illustrated,  50 
cents.  First  edition  ready  September  1. 

This  is  a  delightful  and  fascinating  book.  The  idea 
Avorked  out  in  it  is  that  plants  are  living  beings  Avhich 
receive  impressions  from  the  outside  world,  and  act  on 
those  impressions  for  their  own  advantage,  just  as  people 
do.  This  is  not  mere  fancy;  the  author  brings  a  wealth 
of  interesting  facts  to  prove  that  it  is  true.  He  shoAvs 
that  the  main  reason  AA’hy  the  Amluntary  actions  of 
plants  haA-e  not  been  generally  observed  is  that  in  most 
cases  they  are  exceedingly  sIoav  compared  Avith  the 
motions  of  animals.  There  are,  hoAvever,  many  inter¬ 
esting  exceptions  to  this  rule,  and  he  describes  a  feAV 
of  these  in  detail. 


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LIBRARY  OF  SCIENCE  FOR  THE  WORKERS 

Some  of  the  most  important  contributions  of  recent 
years  toward  the  rounding  out  of  the  evolution  theory 
have  been  in  the  field  of  botany,  and  this  little  hook, 
now  for  the  first  time  put  within  the  reach  of  English 
readers,  is  a  most  charming  introduction  to  this  field. 

3.  THE  END  OF  THE  WORLD.  By  Dr.  M.  Wilhelm 
Meyer.  Translated  by  Margaret  \Yagner.  Cloth, 
illustrated,  50  cents.  First  edition  ready  Octo¬ 
ber  1. 

The  central  thought  of  this  book  is  that  the  earth  it¬ 
self,  solid  and  permanent  as  it  ajjpears  to  us,  is  subject  to. 
the  same  forces,  moving  in  cycles  of  evolution,  disso¬ 
lution  and  new'  evolution,  *w'hich  operate  on  everything 
great  and  small  throughout  the  universe.  The  matter 
of  wdiich  the  earth  is  composed  is  indestructible,  but  it 
existed  in  different  forms  before  the  earth  w'as,  and  it 
.jvill  exist  in  different  forms  w'hen  the  earth  has  ceased 
to  be.  Moreover,  time  was  wdien  the  earth  had  reached 
almost  its  present  form  and  yet  w'hen  the  existence  of 
human  life  on  it  Avould  have  been  impossible,  and  a 
time  is  coming  when  forces  now'  at  w'ork  Avill  put  an 
end  to  the  cycle  of  human  life  on  this  planet. 

It  is  w'ith  these  destructive  forces  that  “The  End  of 
the  MMrld”  deals.  The  book  is  not#  fanciful  and  specu¬ 
lative,  but  purely  scientific,  yet  it  is  Avrittcn  in  the 
same  delightfully  simple  style  as  the  other  numbers  of 
the  Library  of  Science  for  the  Workers.  A  companion 
A'olume  by  the  same  author,  entitled  “The  Making  of 
the  World,”  Avill  appear  some  time  in  1906. 

4.  SCIENCE  AND  REVOLUTION.  By  Ernest  Unter- 
mann.  Cloth,  50  cents.  Beady  October  1. 


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LIBRARY  OF  SCIENCE  FOR  THE  WORKERS 


This  is  an  original  work  by  the  translator  of  “The 
Evolution  of  Man.”  Mr.  Untermann  is  a  graduate  of 
the  University  of  Berlin,  an  accomplished  linguist,  and 
a  special  student  in  biology  as  well  as  in  social  science. 
He  is  an  American  citizen,  and  within  the  last  few 
years  has  done  much  important  writing  in  American 
periodicals.  The  present  volume  is  based  on  a  series 
of  articles  which  appeared  in  a  prominent  review,  but 
their  form  has  been  popularized  so  as  to  offer  few  diffi¬ 
culties  to  the  student  who  -wnshes  to  investigate  the 
important  subject  of  the  relation  of  modern  science  to 
the  working-class  movement.  The  scope  of  the  book  is 
well  indicated  by  the  folowing: 

Table  of  Contents. 

1.  Proletarian  Science. 

2.  The  Starting  Point. 

3.  The  Awakening  of  Philosophy. 

4.  A  Step  Forward  in  Greece. 

5.  A  Step  Backward  in  Rome. 

6.  In  the  Slough  of  Ecclesiastic  Feudalism. 

7.  The  Struggle  for  More  Light. 

8.  The  Resurrection  of  Natural  Philosophy  in  En¬ 
gland. 

9.  Natural  Philosophy  in  France. 

10.  A  Reversion  to  Idealism  in  Germany. 

11.  In  the  Melting  Pot  of  the  French  Revolution. 

12.  The  Wedding  of  Science  and  Natural  Philosophy. 

13.  The  Outcome  of  Classic  Philosophy  in  Germany. 

14.  Science  and  the  Working  Class. 

15.  The  Offspring  of  Science  and  Natural  Philosophy. 

16.  A  Waif  and  Its  Adoption. 

17.  Materialist  Monism,  the  Science  and  Religion  of 
the  Proletariat. 


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LIBRARY  OF  SCIENCE  FOR  THE  WORKERS 

5.  THE  TRIUMPH  OF  LIFE.  By  William  Boelsche. 
Translated  by  May  Wood  Simons.  Cloth,  illus¬ 
trated,  50  cents.  Ready  November  1. 

This  latest  work  by  the  author  of  “The  Evolution  of 
Man”  will  be  found  even  more  fascinating  than  the 
earlier  volume.  It  is  based  on  a  series  of  popular  lec¬ 
tures  delivered  by  the  author  to  large  audiences  in  Ber¬ 
lin.  In  the  preface  he  saj^s: 

“We  accompany  life  in  its  conquest  of  the  planet 
earth.  Out  of  the  boundless  space  this  earth  first  ap¬ 
pears  to  us  as  a  star.  We  rush  to  this  star  upon  a 
meteorite.  While  this  strange  world-visitor  glows  and 
puffs  out  in  the  earth’s  atmosphere,  the  ocean  suddenly 
sparkles  beneath  us.  This  glowing  of  the  water  is  the 
work  of  living  creatures,  and  thus  we  first  enter  upon 
the  kingdom  of  life.  We  dive  dovm  into  the  cold  abysses 
of  the  deep  sea  with  its  light-giving  fishes.  Through 
the  primeval  water-forest  of  sea-Aveed  Ave  rise  once  more 
to  the  Avondrously  colored  coral  strand.  In  the  stone 
of  this  coral  island,  built  of  the  remnants  Of  life,  Ave 
find  a  passage  back  to  the  interior  of  the  earth,  into 
the  dark  caves  Avhere  the  bones  of  the  shapeless  saurians 
of  the  primitive  world  lie  buried  in  the  rock.  From  these 
caves  Ave  clinib  to  the  glaciers  of  the  ice  age,  to  the 
mammoths  and  pre-historic  men.  The  Amlcanoes  of  the 
mysterious  south  polar  land  send  forth  their  smoke. 
In  the  fern  forests  of  NeAV  Zealand  Ave  AA’alk  once  more 
in  the  carboniferious  age.  Noav  we  folloAA^  the  luxuriant 
life  of  the  primitiAm  forests  of  Brazil;  AA^e  see  the  bloom¬ 
ing  palms  of  India,  the  Avonderful  giant  trees  of  Mari¬ 
posa,  the  grotesque  cactus  forms  of  Mexico;  until  life 
fights  its  last  battle  for  us  in  the  desert  and  on  the 


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LIBRARY  OF  SCIENCE  FOR  THE  WORKERS 


eternal  snow  of  the  lofty  mountains.  But  out  of  these 
wastes  comes  man,  who  reads  the  stars  and  learns  the 
laws  of  life.  So  the  triumph  of  life  culminates  in  the 
triumph  of  man,  who  spreads  the  rule  of  his  mind  over 
the  earth  from  the  equator  to  the  poles.” 

Any  of  these  books  will  be  mailed  on  receipt  of  the 
price,  or  the  live  volumes  will  be  mailed  to  one  address 
for  two  dollars.  Advance  orders  rvill  help  us  to  bring 
out  additional  volumes  in  the  series.  These  will  be 
announced  later.  Address 

CHARLES  H.  KERR  &  COMPANY  (CO-OPERATIVE), 
56  Fifth  Avenue,  Chicago. 


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